


For the Plot

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Betaed, Charlie Bradbury Ships It, Dean/Cas Secret Santa 2015, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Humor, LARPing, M/M, Plot, Prompt Fic, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>A thousand lives lived as one</em>, Dean summarizes, not realizing that he’s staring at the seraph. <em>And he’s chosen to spend a weekend nerding out with our sad asses.</em></p><p>*</p><p>Secret weapons, mead, longbows, tents and elves: it must be Moondoor's first weekend of the year and Team Free Will is invited. Charlie sees it as the perfect opportunity to dish out a side of romance while her kingdom faces off against the Shadow Orcs.</p><p>It's all for the plot, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Plot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [through_shadows_falling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/gifts).



The sun hangs lazily in the sky, the heat almost too much, but there’s a cool breeze coming off of Lake Michigan. Air moving pleasantly over the main Moondoor campsite site—where the Queen’s host is stationed—it feels to Dean like this long weekend is maybe just what they all needed. Charlie had said summer is for LARPing and standing here among the excited players, a sense of adventure and anticipation buzzing through them all, Dean can understand why. It just feels right to be there while the weather is this good—to head out to play and pretend. To just get away from their problems and themselves for awhile.

Even Dean is buzzing. In five minutes, the Queen of Moons will announce that he, Sam and Castiel are her new honor guard and what this weekend’s game will be about. Dean is waiting outside the honor guards’ tent, all reds and silvers, set beside the queen’s, as Sam and Cas finish getting their costumes on.

Chainmail rests against Dean’s chest, shoulders and back, the little metal links clinking whenever he shifts his stance. The reddish tunic he wears has the queen’s crest just over his heart, all moon and stars—underneath is a creamy long sleeved vest, with the sleeves partly covered by leather bracers. On his legs is a pair of suede pants in brown and on his feet a pair of coffee colored leather boots, strapped all the way up his calves. A LARP sword hangs from his left hip, dangling from a belt, its length suitable for single hand use or hand and-a-half; the crossguard elaborately detailed for what amounts to little more than a toy if Dean were to compare it to the swords in their armory back in the Bunker. And finally, upon Dean’s left forearm rests a bronze colored, circular buckler.

Movement inside the guards’ tent draws Dean’s attention and he turns to see Sam and Cas finally emerge. The two of them are similarly dressed to Dean in terms of colors and armor types, though Sam has on a surcoat instead of a tunic, because of his tall frame. Both had refused to tell Dean what weapons they would be using, but he now sees that Castiel has gone for a longbow and a full quiver, plus backup dagger; Sam has picked up a huge halberd and a shortsword. The blades are suspended by their hips. _We are going to kick ass._

“Looking good, guys,” Dean smirks, but his eyes wander over Castiel a touch more than they usually would, it being so strange to see the seraph out of his trenchcoat while outside.

“Any sign of our queen?” Sam asks, looking to Charlie’s colorful pavilion.

“No, she said she’d call when she was ready.” Dean gives Cas a small smile.

“Am I correct in assuming that we are meant to have character names when we are playing LARP?” Cas runs his fingers along his longbow’s grip and Dean can’t help watching the movement, eyes fascinated by the long elegance of Castiel’s fingers.

Dean wonders how he could have never noticed their elegance before and then shakes his head, looking to Charlie’s tent instead. He swallows, nervously and comes back to himself.

“Right, yes, character names. Sam?”

“You can call me, uh, Alard of Burnswick.”

Dean nods approvingly. “Awesome, what about you, Cas?”

“I was thinking perhaps that I may be called Bero of Harrow.” Castiel licks his lips— _and why can’t I stop watching this?_ “What about you, Dean?”

Shaking his head again, Dean tries to bring his thoughts together. “You can call me Elias of Burnswick... I figured, y’know, if you don’t mind, Sam, that we could still both be brothers?”

Cas shifts just as Dean’s eyes had somehow wandered down the length of the seraph and Dean isn’t quite use to seeing the seraph out of his usual attire. The suede pants are hugging Cas’s legs in a more flattering manner than his dress slacks ever do.

“Sounds good… hey, are you okay?” Sam stakes a step closer to Dean. Dean’s breathing is shallow and he’s feeling warmer than he did five minutes ago.

Taking a deep breath, Dean looks away from Cas and glares at Sam. “I’m fine… Alard. Now, shall we go and check on our queen?”

Before Sam can reply, Castiel stalks past the two of them and stands to the entrance of Charlie’s pavilion..

“My queen, are you ready to greet your subjects?” Cas calls, voice sure and commanding, drawing a pang from Dean that the older Winchester doesn’t want to acknowledge.

 _What is wrong with me? I’m not some damn high schooler with a crush. I’m just here to have some fun._ There’s movement inside Charlie’s tent. _Hook ups weren’t even on the table when Charlie invited us._ Dean’s gaze drifts to Castiel’s back and fixes on the arrow shafts poking out of the seraph’s quiver. But Dean can not ignore the simple fact that this was the first time he and Cas have been around each other—without working on a case or researching the Mark—in quite some time. It is the first weekend Moondoor has assembled for the year.

A handmaiden appears at the mouth of the pavilion, wearing a simple green dress and white blouse, she frowns and eyes the three of them with character driven suspicion. “Ma’am,” the handmaiden calls back over her shoulder, “I think yer honor guard is here.”

There’s a gleeful squeal from within the pavilion and the sound of muffled, hurrying feet. Charlie, Queen of Moons, pulls back the entrance curtain and greets Dean, Sam and Cas. She’s dressed similarly to Dean, but has a dagger, gloves instead of bracers, no chainmail and a bag tied at her hip. She beams at the three of them.

“You can leave us for now, Ida,” says Charlie to her handmaiden. Ida curtsies and heads back into the fabric structure.

Charlie leans forward and straightens Dean’s chainmail. “You three look awesome! So, what should your queen be calling you?”

Castiel goes first. “Bero of Harrow.”

“Elias of Burnswick.” Dean smiles.

“Alard of Burnswick,” answers Sam.

“Fantastic. Well, it’s time the queen got her show on the road. Alard, would you fetch the herald, Gilbert, he’s just around the rear of the tent.”

“Of course, my queen.” Sam bows and then takes his leave.

Charlie claps her hands in joy and smiles. “It makes your queen very happy that you all seem to be getting into the spirit of things.”

Castiel raises a hand. “If I may be out of character for a moment?”

“Of course.” Charlie is practically bouncing at this point.

“I observed humanity when much of this was commonplace not so long ago.”

There it is. The reminder that Cas is so much more than he appears at first sight. Dean’s known the dude for six years, but he still finds it difficult to comprehend the expanse of all that Castiel has witnessed and done. _A thousand lives lived as one_ , Dean summarizes, not realizing that he’s staring at the seraph. _And he’s chosen to spend a weekend nerding out with our sad asses_.  
  


***

  
Standing in the central square of the Queen of Moon’s camp, surrounded by colorful tents, Castiel—or rather Bero—keeps a wary eye on the onlookers gathered for the queen’s announcement. Standing to Charlie’s right, Castiel has his longbow poised in his hands and an arrow notched, ready to be fired should there be trouble. Sam is stood to Charlie’s left and Dean stands in front of them and to the left side, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The day has so far found Castiel impressed with the level of detail and effort the game’s players put into their costumes and characters. _Their commitment to this play is astounding._

Charlie stands tall. “My subjects, we are at peace at this time, our alliances stronger than ever before. But, we have heard whisperings from the Shadow Orcs, that their leader has found a mighty weapon, which they plan to use against us!”

Excited tittering runs through the crowd. Castiel remains on alert.

“This eve there shall be a feast, so that we may renew our ties with the Elves and the Warriors of Yesteryear. For the Shadow Orcs numbers also grow stronger and with this weapon they threaten all our kingdoms. Please extend the hand of friendship to all who may call themselves friend or ally.

“And please welcome my new honor guard. Should you come by any knowledge of the Shadow Orcs’ plans, then do not hesitate to,” Charlie pointed to Dean, Cas and Sam in turn, “speak with Elias, Alard or Bero.”

Three cloaked figures push through the crowd, hoods drawn up, and Castiel’s hands tense on his bow—the notched arrow with its rubber head ready to fly. The figures reach the front of the crowd; two draw swords and one begins to prepare a spell. Dean and Sam spring to action to take on the sword wielders, leaving the mage to Cas. The queen’s subjects begin to back away.

“For the Shadow Orcs!” Cry the two sword wielding figures in unison, as they rush Sam and Dean.

Castiel steps closer to the queen, trying to keep her covered as he takes aim with his longbow and stares down his arrow’s shaft, making sure its point will hit home. He looses the arrow upon the mage and it strikes the figure, who collapses, spell dying on his lips (red bean bag falling to the ground). Glancing over to his left, Castiel sees Sam tying up the hooded figures who had drawn swords. Dean is walking back to Charlie and Cas.

Castiel looks over his shoulder, glancing to the queen. “My queen, are you unharmed?”

Charlie nods and then points in alarm to something behind Cas. He spins on the spot and sees a new hooded figure lunge towards Dean. The figure grabs Dean and pulls him down to the ground so fast, Dean can’t get his sword on him. A fake fist fight ensues, but it’s brief, Dean quickly bringing the point of his sword to the figure’s throat.

“Yield or die!” Shouts Dean.

“I yield, I yield!” Cries a woman’s voice.

Several regular guards approach the scene and take the three surviving orcs away and towards the stockades, and two stand beside the queen. A pale figure, face covered, leans beside the mage and pronounces her dead.

Castiel strides over to where Dean is and helps him up. Forgetting his own strength for a moment, Castiel pulls Dean up and sends the hunter stumbling into his chest and then has to hold onto Dean to stop him falling backwards. Castiel feels Dean’s breath catch, sees a blush spread across the hunter’s cheeks and Dean’s eyes open wide as he looks up into Castiel’s. _There is no distance here..._ The two of them are frozen in this tableaux and Castiel isn’t sure what’s going on around him anymore. There’s just Dean and him, and the rapid beating of Dean’s heart that’s punching out a message to Castiel’s, as his hand still grips Dean’s.

Automatically, Castiel licks his lips and he observes Dean tracking the movement. Sam pushes past the two of them and maybe an elbow makes its way into Cas’s side, but he doesn’t show any sign of being affected by it. There’s only the thump, thump, thump of Dean’s heart and how good the righteous man feels in his arms.

Dean’s lips move. Cas can’t hear anything else but Dean’s heart.

The hunter’s lips move again and then suddenly the world around them reappears, sound bursting through. There’s only Charlie, Dean, Cas, Sam and the herald standing in the square now.

“I said, Bero, you can let go of me,” Dean’s trying to keep a level voice and stay in character, but Castiel can hear the note of hesitation there. Dean’s hand remains tight in his, gripping him. _Which is Dean playing now? Himself or Elias?_

Letting go of Dean’s hand and allowing him to stand away, Castiel tilts his head at the hunter.

“Sorry, Elias.”

“Let’s head back to my tent and see if we can figure out where the Shadow Orcs are hiding this weapon.” Charlie shows no sign of acknowledging of what just passed between Cas and Dean, and begins to lead the way from the square, Sam and the herald falling in step beside her.

It takes a moment for Castiel to realize that he should follow, but Dean isn’t moving. The seraph suspects that he should say something, what with the increasing distance between the two of them and their charge, but he becomes less sure of what it is that he should say. _Hello, Dean or Elias, we appear to have shared some kind of “moment” as humans call it. Would you like to further discuss this moment? Should I hold your hand? Should I clutch you against my chest again? Was it Elias or Dean who stared back at me?_

“We… should follow them.” Dean remains stood where he has for the past minute.

“We should.” Neither moves.

Five minutes pass. Other players begin to traverse the square again. An unspoken agreement finally sees Castiel and Dean begin to move their legs and walk back to the queen’s tent.

“Why did,” Dean breaks their silence, “you agree to join us for this?”

Castiel gives Dean a sideways smile. “Sometimes it is nice to be someone else, don’t you think?”

Dean glances back to him, but Castiel can’t quite read the expression there.

“I suppose.”  
  


***

  
Sam’s hanging back with Charlie as they wait from a vantage point further back the ambush they had put in place for a group of Shadow Orcs in the forest. Dean and Cas are part of the ambush team of six, their back up two mages, a rogue and a huntsman. Charlie and Sam can see the entire scene while they wait with the herald and Charlie’s court mage Esmeralda.

“So, Dean and Cas,” Charlie says loud enough so that only Sam can hear her.

 _Of course we’re gonna talk about that debacle in the square, yep._ “Dean and Cas...” Sam whispers back.

“How long has that been a thing?”

“It’s not a thing. It’s six years of them being blind to it being a thing.”

Charlie stifles a laugh. “You know… we could nudge their in-game characters towards each other. Well, more than nudge, could say that their characters need to be together for the plot.”

“You think they’ll go for that?”

“I’m amazed they haven’t already crashed into each other through sheer gravitational force. Giving them a plot prompt will just help them have a chance to explore these feelings without any expectations being on them outside of the game.”

 _There’s no way Dean’s gonna be on board if I tell him. He’ll be embarrassed as hell that I noticed._ “Maybe you should be the one to tell them?”

A grin spreads across Charlie’s face. “Okay, once we’re back, I’ll call them into my tent.”

“Where’s the plot going to come in to all of this?”

Charlie’s grin grows wider. “Plot? What plot?” She winks at Sam.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his right temple, recalling the fanfiction he’d previously stumbled across when he’d found out about Chuck’s books. “Forget I asked.”

The sound of twigs and branches snapping announces the start of the ambush. Suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as the ambush party begins to battle a group of four Shadow Orcs.

“For the Queen!” Dean and Cas shout at the same time from their respective positions. Sam watches his brother enter the melee while Cas hangs back to attack with his longbow.  
  


***

  
Waiting inside the Queen’s pavilion, Charlie tries not to feel nervous. The hubbub of the game world drifts in through the cloth walls. Evening is approaching and Charlie can see the light changing. It won’t be dark for ages yet, but everything’s taking on a softer warm glow.

“Queen?” Dean asks near the entrance, the herald having done his job of finding him. “You asked for Bero and I?”

“Yes, come in.”

Dean and Castiel walk in. Both look a little rougher around the edges than when the game started earlier in the day, having now fought in several skirmishes, but Charlie can’t help smiling at how adorable they look in their outfits. If someone told her three years ago that she’d be able to convince Dean Winchester and an angel to go romping about a forest dressed as if they were extras from _Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves_? Charlie would not have believed them.

Coming to a standstill in front of Charlie’s fake throne, Dean fidgets a little with the hilt of his sword while Cas stands unmoving and stares straight at Charlie. His eyes are commanding and intense. Charlie nervously flicks some of her hair out of the way.

“Okay, I need to talk to you two out of character for a minute, okay? Can I just have Dean and Cas.”

“Uh, sure.” Dean’s posture doesn’t change much.

Cas stands slightly more casually.

“Right, okay. Well, I want you two to be an in-game couple. Y’know, for the plot.”

Dean stands a little straighter and meets Charlie’s eyes. “You want Bero and Elias to be an in-game couple… for the plot?”

“Yep.”

Dean frowns. “What kind of plot?”

Spinning a yarn on the spot, Charlie replies, “With your two families united, our camp will have stronger trade links with the Elves, because Bero’s family has strong ties to them. With that trade link we can expect better deals on spell components, and good quality armor and weapons.”

“Look, this sounds compli-”

“Okay, if that is what is needed for the plot.” Castiel shrugs and Charlie blinks—almost missing the nervous swallow from the seraph.

“Wait, you’re cool with this?” Dean turns to Cas.

“If it will help continue the game this weekend, then yes I am.”

Charlie suppresses a smirk.

“So, you are completely okay with us being a couple in-game?” Dean asks Cas. Charlie tries to read the expression on Dean’s face: it looks like a mixture of disbelief, fury and longing.

The seraph reaches a hand out towards Dean and touches him on his left shoulder. Dean goes deathly still and pale.

Charlie takes that as her cue to leave. “Okay, well I need to go and interrogate some orcs. You two can stay here and work out the specifics. Take however long you need.”

Neither Cas or Dean acknowledges Charlie’s words or exit. A silence similar to the one from the square settles between the two of them.

 _They’ll be fine, right?_ Charlie ponders, heading for the stockade.  
  


***

  
Back in the forest, Castiel and Dean are hidden in the bush, waiting for several elves to appear. The herald had barged into Charlie’s tent some time after her departure and explained they were needed to bring a group of elves on side.

Bero was to use his family links. That at least was what Castiel had inferred from Charlie’s new direction for their characters.

A hooded silver robed elf catches Castiel’s eye and he grabs at Dean’s shoulder to point. Then a golden robed elf appears from out of the green and then a ruby red robed elf. Their hoods are all up, but their gaits declare them to be elves rather than humans or orcs. The elves move swiftly and with little noise.

Thumping Dean on the shoulder, Castiel begins to emerge from their hiding place.

“Esta Orbryn,” Castiel addresses the ruby red robed figure, “it is I, Bero of Harrow. We were told you wished to meet with us. This,” Cas held a hand back towards Dean, “is Elias of Burnswick.”

Esta pulls back her hood past her impressive, fake, elf ears and smiles. Her companions do the same.

“Yes, you are correct, Bero of Harrow. May I call you Bero?”

Castiel nods. “Yes, may I call you Esta?”

Esta nods. “My companions are Ara Orbryn,” the golden robed elf pulls back her hood, “and Silvyr Orbryn.” The silver robed elf pulls back his hood. “Your mother shares our bloodline.”

“Yes, so I have been told by the humans that raised me.”

Ara steps forward. “We wish to renew those ties with you and aid your human family against the Shadow Orcs..”

Dean shifts beside Castiel and he can feel the hunter is not quite at ease. “How?”

“A fresh marital tie to your human side and the promise that you would foster some of your elven cousins,” Silvyr replies.

“That sounds agreeable,” Castiel replies, nodding.

“Cas,” Dean hisses. Only Castiel hears this and he places a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the tense the muscles there.

“We do not expect a wedding before this latest threat from the orcs is dealt with,” Ara looks Castiel in the eye, “but we expect confirmation that your bond between each other is real.”

The seraph nods. “And how would you expect that confirmation?”

“For elves,” Silvyr speaks matter of factly, “this means spending a night together before ties are made, so as to assure all there is a deep, long lasting love between both parties.”

Castiel is half holding Dean up. “Right. Thank you… I am sure we will… be able to meet your expectations.”

The elves nod in unison.

“We must take our leave of you, Bero and Elias. May the goddess favor you.” Esta leads her companions away, back into the deep greens of the forest.

Wild eyed and shocked, Dean turns to Cas, shaking. “What the hell man?! Spend a night together! Just what are you—”

Surrounded now by the solitude of the forest, Castiel puts a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and brings their lips together. The kiss is light and meant to be reassuring. Dean stops shaking so much and leans into the kiss a little before pulling away.

Dean looks at Castiel expectantly.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Castiel says simply. “In all of this, if you wish for me to stop you just have to say so and I will, no judgement.”

“Yeah, well you're the angel that signed on to fake-bang a human male while in a male vessel. Good to know no still means no.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Let’s head back to camp.”  
  


***

  
One full stockade earns them the location of the weapon the Shadow Orcs hold, though not what it is. A raid is planned for the morning, but tonight is the feast. The guard of honor remain in uniform, not that Dean regrets this as the air begins to cool. Their Queen of Moons looks splendid in a crushed red velvet evening gown, crown upon her head. Sam is sat beside her, keeping an eye on proceedings. The Mark is only stinging as much as a small bug bite. Castiel is nowhere to be seen.

Fire pits roast pork, chicken and beef. Fresh bread sits warmly on the tables. A stone oven bakes potatoes. Flagons of mead, strawberry wine, blackberry wine and beer are being passed around. There might be water and soda somewhere, but Dean’s not looking. Talk mixes between in character and out. A band of minstrels plays in the center using lutes, flutes, drums and harps.

Sitting down at one empty bench, platter of meat and bread in one hand and a goblet of blackberry wine in the other, Dean sighs and looks over the happy gathering. Stars shine in the sky above alongside a half-moon. Taking a mouthful of spit roasted pork, Dean chews and can’t stop wondering where Cas has wound up after the meeting with the elves.

Not that he’s entirely sure whether he can handle seeing the angel right now. After Charlie had left them alone together, things hadn’t gone much beyond intense staring and Cas’s grip on his shoulder slowly increasing until Dean shrugged him off. That kiss in the forest after the elves had been good, but Dean’s not ready to admit that.

The specifics that Charlie had mentioned they should work out? All Dean could remember was agreeing that Bero could try something with Elias, but not what. And now as Dean sits here alone on the bench he feels tension trying to knot his stomach, which is a damn shame, because the pig’s damn good. The elves’ demands are what worry him, but Cas says he won’t do anything Dean doesn’t want, which is both reassuring and terrifying. _What if I want it all?_ And Dean buries that thought.

Castiel has been Dean’s shadow all day and not because he didn’t understand how Moondoor was played. It is the exact opposite: the play rules and manner of acting fit right in with Castiel’s warrior past and the ages he’s experienced. He’s perhaps the most at home in Charlie’s kingdom. And there’s a closeness to Cas almost being his shadow that he’s not experienced since getting the stupid Mark. _Longer, even._

As if summoned by Dean’s thoughts, which is entirely possible, Castiel appears on the bench beside Dean, startling him. The seraph plops a flagon of wine down on the table beside them.

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean glares at the seraph and then realizes just how close the angel is beside him, warm right leg touching his left. Silence stretches out between them yet again and Dean tries desperately to remember what he agreed Bero could try with Elias, because it probably didn’t end at kissing.

“You are Dean at the moment?”

 _Do I find out? Don’t I find out? Do I find_ — “Sorry, I’m Elias.”

“Do you require more wine, Elias?” Cas reaches for the flagon he brought and Dean checks his goblet. It’s empty.

“Uh, sure, Bero… that would be most kind?” Dean asks, unsure of what his response should be.

The goblet is topped up and Cas pours some blackberry wine for himself. “It is a fine night.”

 _God, I hope no one is watching us._ “Yes, it is a fine night.”

“Of course the stars and moon above are nothing in comparison to the beauty that shines from you.”

Dean just stares at Cas, disbelief warring with sheer shock at Cas’s in-character attempts at flirting, _or should that be courting?_ Unsure how to respond, Dean licks his lips and damn, Cas’s eyes are watching his every tiny move.

“Uhhh, thank you, Bero.” _Is it even possible to respond to that?_ The whole in-character flirting thing, while perhaps giving distance to what is happening between them is as awkward as hell, now that Dean considers it further. He doesn’t need to have why he’s, _damnit_ , drawn towards Cas be covered up by this falseness.

And yes, Cas does look fantastic. The way the firelight is captured by Cas’s eyes lends them a mysterious quality, making them deep and foreboding, _full of dark beautiful promises_ —and there is no way in hell Dean is going to have Elias tell Bero that. But if he doesn’t use his character to tell Cas that, will he ever have the fortitude of mind to speak it out loud?

 _For the plot_ … “The way your eyes capture the firelight lends them a mysterious quality. Like your eyes are full of dark beautiful promises.”

This time it’s Cas who licks his lips and Dean who can’t help watching. The seraph’s leg that has remained against Dean’s all this time suddenly feels impossibly closer, like it’s pinning Dean to the bench. It’s not like he wants to leave, but he’s not entirely sure whether he can handle the look that his friend is giving him.

“Elias,” Cas reaches out his right hand and touches Dean’s left thigh, “they are not promises, they are sureties.”

The weight and added warmth of Cas’s hand makes Dean’s breath catch, _and fuck I don’t care if no one ever says “sureties”, this is…_ Looking into Cas’s eyes again, Dean realizes he’s going to get very lost, very quickly and he’s not entirely sure he wants to find the way out again.

Dean drains his goblet and puts his food down on the table. “Bero, I…”

“Come, Elias.”

Taking the lead, Cas stands up and holds out his hand to Dean. Casting a furtive glance around the feast, Dean sees no one watching the two of them and decides to grip Castiel’s hand and gets to his feet. Cas leads Dean away from the gathering and into the small tented town.

Thump, thump, thump goes Dean’s heart.  
  


***

  
When they’re walking back through the square Cas turns abruptly and pulls Dean to his chest, holding him as he did earlier when more eyes were watching. Their chainmail clinks against each other. He can feel the hunter’s heart trying to escape through his chest, but Cas decides now is not the time for inaction. _Now is not the time to be Castiel, I need to be Bero for now._

Reaching up to cup Dean’s face, Cas leans in and when the hunter doesn’t pull away, he presses their lips together. Feeling his vessel’s breath catch, Castiel delights in the complex sweetness that cloys Dean’s lips—traces of blackberry wine. Castiel entices Dean open with flicks of his tongue and their kiss deepens.

Castiel reluctantly breaks away from Dean and draws back to look at him. The hunter’s pupils are big, dissolving most of the surrounding green and it is with satisfaction that Castiel acknowledges that he did that. That he is responsible for that and the continued, rapid beating of Dean’s heart.

“Are you alright, Elias?” Cas asks softly, stroking Dean’s face.

Dean manages a small nod.

Slowly, Cas lets go of Dean, bar his hand, and begins leading him through the tents again.  
  


***

  
Reaching the honor guards’ tent, Dean feels a shiver run down his spine. A sense of anticipation is coiled tightly inside him and he’s not sure how to handle it. He keeps reminding himself this is for the plot, all of it for the plot, but that doesn’t stop the intrusion of thoughts that say otherwise and mock him for being unable to get this far without pretending.

Castiel turns on a battery powered lantern and leads Dean over to a secluded corner with plenty of floor cushions.

“This would be easier if we removed our armor and weapons.” Castiel points at Dean’s chainmail. Carefully, the two of them dress down to just their tunics and pants, weapons, armor and boots left in a neat pile nearby.

Through sheer force of will, Dean refuses to allow the lack of layers and fake weaponry to make him feel vulnerable. He sits down on the cushions and Cas plops down beside him. Feeling Cas so close to him, Dean tries not to think of how close this is to what he really wants.

Cas rests his hand on Dean’s and he enjoys the goosebumps that spring up as Cas draws him into a kiss. It’s more chaste than the one they shared in the square and the forest, but then Dean pushes up against Cas a little and it becomes heated. Dean opens his mouth and lets Cas slide his tongue in, revels in the way the angel tastes of violets and spring mornings. Whole and good. _I want this._

The angel eases Dean down onto the cushions, straddling him and renews their kissing. The weight of Cas on him feels good, reassuring even. Lips sliding wetly together, tongues warm and smooth. Dean reaches up to Cas and slides his hand under Cas’s tunic and strokes the angel’s side lightly. Cas’s long fingers tease at Dean’s tunic and ruck it up, leaving his skin tingling in their wake.

Cas reaches Dean’s nipple and gently rubs small circles into it, causing Dean to arch up into the touch. The movement rocks him into the angel’s hardening cock, so he grinds up against Cas again chasing the sweet friction—causing his cock to fill. Pleasure spilling into his senses, Dean allows himself to enjoy what he’s having with Cas, what he’s choosing to have.

Breaking the kiss and taking deep lungfuls of air, Dean focuses on Cas’s plump, kiss swollen lips. And then he catches the look in Cas’s eyes and sees a question there that the angel seems unsure he should ask.

“We good?” Dean asks in a kiss rough voice.

“I, um,” and Cas’s earlier sureness is gone and Dean tries not to see it as a sign they have to stop, “I don’t… I do not want this to be Bero and Elias.”

What Cas wants it to be hangs there unsaid between them. Dean takes a deep breath. “You want this to be Cas and Dean.”

His angel nods.

“Yeah. Okay.” Dean takes a steadying breath, knot loosening in his stomach, “W-we can do that.”

Cas fucking beams at him and launches himself at Dean again, kissing him even more passionately than before. Dean’s body responds and as his mouth works with Cas’s, his hips work against the angel’s as well, seeking friction. The push and pull is dizzying, stretching Dean’s attention and desire. He wants so much, but he’s scared to ask for it. Scared to take this beyond what the two of them are doing.

A sure hand makes that decision for Dean. Leaving his nipple alone, Cas brings his hand between them and squeezes Dean’s hard cock through his flexible suede pants, causing Dean to moan into Cas’s mouth.

“I believe,” Cas pants a little, “that we are both wearing too many clothes.”

Eager fingers are suddenly on Dean’s tunic, helping him out of his remaining clothes. Dean helps Cas out of his and then he’s staring up at the seraph, seeing him fully naked for the first time. Cas kneels back and Dean sucks in a breath as he sees Castiel’s cock poised over his.

There’s an almost greedy look in the angel’s eyes and then he’s on Dean again, taking them both in hand as his mouth meets Dean’s. The two of them slip and slide together in Castiel’s hand as they kiss each other breathless. Heat prickles Dean’s skin and he can feel sweat beading his brow and back in the summer eve’s air.

A hookup had not been on the cards when the three of them had descended upon Moondoor this time. Now as Cas grips him just right, like he knows his way around Dean, what he needs and desires: Dean is thankful for the change of events. The tug and pull of Castiel’s hand draws Dean closer to spilling forth, to making him succumb to a source of pleasure he’s long been denying himself.

“Cas!” Dean cries, feeling an inescapable heat build in his belly.

The angel swallows his mouth again and eats the rest of Dean’s cries, hand still working the two of them. There’s no way Dean can last much longer, unable to stop and think where Cas may have learned how to do this, learned how to make another person feel this good. And then he’s gone, orgasming and Castiel following closely behind.  
  


***

  
It’s Castiel who cleans the two of them up and pulls them into boxers and t-shirts. It’s Castiel who makes them spoon, Dean being the little spoon, so that the two of them can cuddle in the same cot and sleep during the night.

Sam had snuck into the tent in the small hours and saw Cas cuddling Dean. Castiel had met the younger Winchester’s questioning gaze in the gloom and Sam had given him an understanding smile before climbing into his own cot.

An orange glow suffuses the tent. Sam’s snores echo across it. They have a morning and afternoon of play ahead of them. A raid to complete and a kingdom to save. And a courtship to continue.  _A life together to consider?_

Looking towards the front of their tent, Castiel is half expecting a pair of elves to be waiting outside for Dean and him. That the moment the two of them step out, the elves will throw flowers over them and announce their “bond” to be “real”.

Dean turns in his sleep and pulls himself against Cas, hooking a leg and arm over him as they lie there under the covers. Cas studies the human’s face and then sees a faint smile.

“Dean?” Castiel asks in as quiet a voice as possible, “Are you asleep?”

In reply, Dean rubs himself up against Cas and kisses him. “Not now.”

“We’ll have to be Bero and Elias in a few hours.” Cas kisses Dean on his nose.

“Mmm,” Dean yawns and then presses his lips a touch more firmly to Castiel’s mouth. “For the plot.”

Cas snakes a hand onto the back of Dean’s neck and kisses him a touch harder, making Dean moan and rub against him again.

Breaking the kiss, Castiel strokes Dean’s neck for a moment and nods. “Yes, for the plot.”  
  


***

  
The camp is a hive of activity, tents are being taken down and gone are the costumes worn for much of the weekend. Dean carries one final duffel bag over to the Impala and places it in the trunk. The Queen of Moons, Elves and Warriors of Yesteryear had succeeded in crushing the Shadow Orcs’ weapon: a powerful staff and the mood among the winning sides is cheerful.

Shutting the trunk, Dean turns and sees Sam, Cas and Charlie approaching. It was time to leave.

“You guys have got to come to the next big game,” says Charlie flinging her arms around Dean and hugging him close.

Dean hugs Charlie back and grins. “Will it be epic?”

“Oh, definitely . Plus the elves wanna see Bero and Elias have a wedding, so you know: no pressure.”

Face turning red, Dean eases out of the hug. A flower petal floats down between them. The elves had ambushed Cas and him the moment they’d stepped outside that morning.

“Only if they bring the grog and the meat,” Dean jokes, but he’s a little worried as to how serious Charlie might be. _Not that, hell, I’ve not even thought about..._ Dean looks over to Cas and finds no help there.

Sam reaches Dean and Charlie, and draws her into a hug. “Isn’t it a bit early to be talking wedding plans?” Sam lets go.

“You know, just what I was thinking. We shou—”

“The elves seem very determined that we be wed.” Castiel bends and hugs Charlie. Dean doesn’t miss the smirk on his angel’s face. _Son of a bitch._

The four of them finish saying bye and then Dean gets into the driver’s seat, Sam takes shotgun and Cas sits behind Dean. An eleven hour drive lays ahead of them.

Zeppelin on low, windows down, Dean settles down into the comfort he always finds in being on the open road. He keeps throwing looks at Sam, trying to figure out what his little brother is thinking. Dean’s pretty sure Sam saw Cas cuddling him last night.

Long, strong fingers work their way onto the left side of Dean’s neck and begin to stroke. The touch gentle and soothing. Dean calms, feeling a tension he wasn’t aware of begin to unwind. Castiel is like nothing Dean has ever experienced and he wants it to last. Needs it to.

Dean throws another look at Sam.

“What, Dean? Is there something on my face?”

“No, no.” Dean’s eyes are on the road again.

“Your characters don’t have to get married in game if you don’t want to. You two know that right?” Sam glances over at Dean.

“That’s not—”

“But you should definitely get the elves to cater. Their mead is real quality stuff.” Sam grins at Dean and then turns to Cas. “And if you hurt my brother, I will hunt you down.”

“Sam!” Dean looks at Sam in shock.

“You are right Sam, we should have the elves cater.” And there’s Cas, just brushing Sam’s remark off and Dean is amazed that everyone is so _cool with all of this_.

Turning his attention back to the road, Dean sighs and leans towards Castiel’s fingers. “I am not wearing a dress.”

“We’ll see.” There’s a wicked gleam in Castiel’s eyes.

Dean smirks. “Nah, you won’t get me in a dress. Between you and me, you’re the only one around here that can get away with wearing white.”

“I hardly think a “pearl necklace” counts, Dean.”

“No, guys, no: we are not having this conversation in the car while I am here!” Sam glares furiously at Cas and Dean.

“Awww, but Cas looks so pretty in white.”

“DEAN!” _And 100% bitchface is achieved._

Laughing, Dean turns the stereo up. It was going to be a long drive home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing [Zeryx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeryx) for being my beta on this. Your advice was invaluable.


End file.
